Ashes to Ashes
by Eternaltsundere
Summary: Shortly after the events of 'Darkest Hour', Yellowfang receives a vision of things to come. With StarClan's newfound knowledge, how will the story unfold? A 'what if' story focusing on Ashfur - or in this case, Ashpaw.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hey! This is my new story. It's kind of a... 'what if' type story. :D It's basically... if StarClan had foreseen Ashfur's downfall. Now, since prophecies have always been unclear, they might not have realized that the danger would pass, and... they might have taken action. I wondered what that action might have been – so here we are.**

**Hope you like! R&R please :) **

Dawn. The sun was just beginning it's steady ascent, the very tip peeking out over the horizon to illuminate the land in a soft orange glow. Atop a hill sat a dark gray she-cat; the morning light tinged her gray fur a dark golden. The sun was rising faster now, higher in the sky than before, and the she-cat glanced around as if in annoyance. Her tail twitched every now and then upon the earth – still wet with dew – and she seemed impatient, even uneasy. Then, at once, three other cats emerged in the distance; the gray cat dipped her head to acknowledge their arrival.

One of the cats, a golden tabby tom, moved with a confidence unlike his companions'. It was obvious he was not a newcomer to this place, and he certainly seemed to know his way around. Flanking him to his right was a sleek white tom, who seemed much less accustomed to being there; on the tabby's right was a blue-gray she-cat, her eyes a striking shade of blue. The three cats made their way up the hillside until they came to a sudden stop beside the dark gray she-cat, their gazes questioning.

"Well?" mewed the blue-gray she-cat without a moment's hesitation. "Why have you called us here, Yellowfang?" Yellowfang's amber eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing, only gave her tail a little lash of frustration. Before she could reply, the golden tom chimed in; "Don't tell me you brought us here for a bit of prey sharing!" Yellowfang hissed at him, obviously annoyed, although there was no venom behind her actions.

"Of course not," she meowed with a huff. "No, this is a far more important matter." In an instant the playful glimmer vanished from the she-cat's eyes and her expression grew serious. "I've had a premonition." The others stared at her, each of them reacting slightly differently to the news – but they all looked grim.

"A premonition?" echoed Whitestorm, giving his tail a flick. "That doesn't sound as if it's a good thing. I'm certain you have a reason for using that word, do you not?" Yellowfang dipped her head solemnly. "You are correct. And it's not good." She paused. For a long moment, she let herself drift into memories, reliving the events she had witnessed in her omen for a short while. A ginger pelt, a badger fight, three kittens... and fire. Fire that consumed everything in its path. And at the end of the vision was the unmistakable scent of death, followed by a pair of sorrowful blue eyes.

"_Chaos will befall the Clans if fire gives way to ash,_" murmured Yellowfang. "There. A prophecy. I don't know how, or why, but I _know _it to be true." Her face grew dark. "And I don't imagine that you three understand what it means yet, do you?"

They blinked back at her, obviously not comprehending the omen at all. She sighed. "I see. I suppose I... well, I suppose..." She trailed off, gaze troubled, then began again. "Whitestorm, your son... he... I saw him, in my vision." Whitestorm looked at her for a long while, his expression mildly surprised. "..What?" he mewed at last. "You mean … Ashpaw?"

Yellowfang nodded. "Yes. I fear... I fear that if things continue on the path they are going, that _he _will bring about destruction. I... I'm sorry." Whitestorm's golden eyes were shadowed with horror – and an unmistakable fear for his firstborn son. "... Have you only brought us here to tell us of the oncoming storm? Is there nothing we can do to change it?"

This time, the answer was different. The gray she-cat blinked, then shook her head. "No. I have a plan. But you're not going to like it." Whitestorm lowered his head, sighing. "I'll manage. Lionheart? Bluestar? What do you say? Will you listen to Yellowfang's proposition?"

Bluestar lowered her ears, but did not protest. "... I don't suppose that we have much choice."

**A/N: I know it's short, but I hope it wasn't unbearable. New chapter coming soon! Oh, and if anyone can try and guess what happens, you win cookies. XD I doubt anyone can!**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: This chapter is very poorly written, and for that I'm sorry. It's also probably very short... I can't really tell, I'm so tired. XP Well, hope you like it anyway.**

The first signs of day had begun to creep their way into the den when Ashpaw finally awoke. Eyelids still heavy with sleep, the apprentice shifted, longing to press his fur against the familiar flank of his sister and drift back off into slumber. But luck wasn't with him. There was a gap where Fernpaw usually slept, and as Ashpaw rolled rather unceremoniously into it, he realized that her nest was cold. _Probably out with the dawn patrol._ With a huge yawn, the gray tom heaved himself up out of the nest and into the camp.

His paws still dragging in weariness, he forced back another yawn as he glanced around the clearing. There were a few cats up already, and as he padded out into the sunlight, he spotted Bramblepaw and his mentor, Firestar, emerging from the fern tunnel. Bramblepaw's pawsteps were ginger, and Ashpaw realized with a start that he must be returning from an early battle session. Was he really up that late? With a sigh, the mottled tom-cat hurried across the clearing to his friend.

"Hey, Ashpaw," mewed Bramblepaw as Ashpaw approached. "You're up late." Ashpaw tilted his head, feeling a little pang of annoyance at his friend's words. Hadn't he felt that enough already? Pushing his frustration away, Ashpaw flicked an ear at the other apprentice. "Not really," was all he replied. Before any more could be said, the gray tom pushed his way forward to nudge Bramblepaw lightly with his nose. "You look exhausted!"

Bramblepaw glanced at the freshkill pile, obviously only half there. _Exhausted and hungry, then! _Chuckling, Ashpaw gave the other tom a friendly butt on the shoulder. "Come on, let's go get something to eat. I haven't hunted yet, but I can go later. Right now you look hungry enough to eat me!"

…

As the two finished their meal, Bramblepaw spoke up. "Want to go hunting with me?" His tone was friendly, but his body wasn't in it, and his tiredness was still very apparent. Ashpaw scoffed in reply, shaking his head. "Sorry, but no thanks! You're dead on your paws - you should rest."

Bramblepaw tilted his head, but didn't protest, only giving a shrug of his shoulders. "If you say so," he replied, although Ashpaw thought he heard relief in the voice. "But you had better be the one who tells Firestar!" Without another word, the tabby pushed past and towards the den.

Intending to go after Firestar, who had left with a patrol just a few moments before, Ashpaw trotted out of the camp and and parted his jaws. He could smell Firestar, but the wind suddenly changed directions - and for a brief moment, an unfamiliar scent hit his nostrils. Instinctively, Ashpaw curled his lip – he couldn't quite place the scent, but maybe... it had only been 2 moons since the battle with BloodClan, and his father's death. Had they returned to get revenge on the Clans who had denied them hunting grounds?

But as soon as it had come, it was gone, and Ashpaw couldn't help but wonder if it had ever been there. The scent was certainly _not _BloodClan, he decided, traces of it still lingering on his nose. But whatever it was, he had never smelled it before. Before he could try and place the vanished smell, another one filled his senses, and he nearly jumped as he recognized it.

_Whitestorm? _His father's scent wreathed around him, and for a moment Ashpaw was back in the nursery, curled up at his mother's belly with his father standing nearby. Despite his parents' falling out, Ashpaw had always remained close to Whitestorm, although never as close as he was to Brindleface. _Are you here with me? _There was no reply. All at one, he felt the presence leaving him – with a mewl of confusion, he stepped forward, trying to seek it out. _Where are you going? _There was something at his heels, guiding him onwards, and almost instantly all thoughts of Whitestorm vanished from the small tom's mind. With these strange feelings about him, Ashpaw set off in a seemingly random direction.

He wasn't sure how long he traveled, but before he knew it, the tom found the forest around him growing less and less dense. Within a few more fox-lengths, the soft grass under his paws had been replaced with cold stone, and Ashpaw felt a chill run through his bones. _Snakerocks! _Why had Whitestorm brought him here? Fully prepared to dash right back to camp, the apprentice spun around – and froze.

Barring his path was a huge creature. Its black and white fur was bristling, and as Ashpaw gaped up at the beast, he saw its own jaws gape right back. Yellow fangs gleaming, the creature lunged, and Ashpaw darted backwards, blue eyes huge with shock. As he took in the towering animal, he realized that it largely resembled a creature that had been described to him many times in the elders' stories – a badger! The badger swung again, and this time it swung true. With a strangled cry, Ashpaw was flung into the rock face beside them, his body connecting with a loud _thud. _

_StarClan help me! _As he struggled to stand, the gray cat let his fearful gaze swing around to rest upon his attacker. As he did so, he finally noticed the look in its eyes – hunger. A small cat like him would certainly seem a perfect meal for a starving badger. Was he going to die here – and would no cat ever find his remains? Shuddering, Ashpaw stood, determination surging through him.

With a yowl of fury, he launched himself onto the creature, digging his claws into its shaggy fur. Clinging to its broad chest, he struggled to find a good hold as he struck with his teeth. His aim was true, and with satisfaction he felt his fangs close around flesh. Deepening his hold, he tasted warm blood flowing into his mouth. With a painful roar, the badger began to thrash about, trying to dislodge the apprentice. He didn't budge. He let his teeth sink in deeper with each jerk about, until finally they seemed to be the only things keeping him latched on. For a moment, it seemed Ashpaw was winning.

Then the badger's forepaws came crashing down onto his body, dislodging him. Crying out, he crumpled to the ground, feeling the familiar trickle of blood upon his back. Before he could stagger to his paws, he was thrown harshly to the side with a large paw. Struggling to stand now, the gray tom felt a cold claw sink into his heart as he realized that he would never see the camp again. This was the end for him. He could already feel himself growing weaker, probably from blood loss.

Snarling, the little gray tom lashed out a forepaw. The badger roared – was that annoyance or real pain? - and backed up a step. Ashpaw spit at it, his fur fluffed out to its full extent. If this was the end, he wasn't going to die a coward. He would go down fighting. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could wound the badger enough for it to die later; it would never bother his Clanmates again. Feeling strengthened by the thought, Ashpaw lashed out again, this time with the other paw, and drew his claws across the creature's nose.

Then a sudden scent distracted him, and he whipped his head around, trying to pinpoint its source. He was sure that this scent was that of Yellowfang, the previous medicine cat, though she had died many moons ago in the fire. Was all of StarClan here to watch him fight? He peered harder into the darkness, trying to make out starry pelts or glowing eyes. There were none. _Perhaps StarClan – _Before he could finish his thought, Ashpaw felt sharp claws dig into his fur, and he yowled in pain. _I shouldn't have been distracted! _The badger raked its paw across the apprentice's face, and almost instantly he felt a stream of blood burst forth from the area. It _hurt. _It hurt _so badly. _Wailing in agony and confusion, Ashpaw blundered backward. The blood was running down into his eyes – no, it was _in _his eyes – no, it – he couldn't make sense of anything, and the tom-cat wailed again as he felt himself bump into the rock behind him. He was trapped!

Then a loud caterwauling broke into his thoughts. He heard a thud, then all he knew were the sounds of battles, growls and snarls. But this was not his battle. Trying desperately to make out the shapes through the blood in his vision, Ashpaw caught a glimpse of brown. Throughout the muddled scents of badger, blood, and StarClan, he thought perhaps he could recognize a new one. _Dustpelt? _Had his mentor come to his rescue?

Dustpelt's wasn't the only scent, he realized. He could scent Firestar and Mousefur, too. The apprentice let himself sink to the ground – he was safe now. As his eyes fluttered closed, Ashpaw let his body settle down on the stone, weary from his battle.

_Oh, StarClan, why did you lead me here?_

**A/N: In case you were wondering... that's the badger that attacked in Firestar's Quest. :'D They said they didn't know how long it'd been there, so... yup. X3**


End file.
